my eyes grew wide and then rain as they close
i have the luck of one surrounded by a million crows
i had rubbed my wet face all over my clothes
in my cheeks, not left even a small rose
for a situation more suitable not for a poem, but prose
i asked
"why"
why did you say what you chose
why is this how it goes
its my fault, i know
as i pace to and frow
in my house, as i go
feeling so low
i asked
"why"
why did i keep saying no
why do i feel as if im on death row
i'm sorry i couldnt stop
i'm horrible
i'm terrible
inexcuseable
i'm miserable
i asked
"why"
it's because of me.
and i cant let you take the blame
~
Tuesday, January 26
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